


to tell you the truth

by nightswatch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5131544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius kisses Remus after a night out at the Leaky Cauldron. The next morning, Sirius has forgotten all about it and Remus isn't quite sure what to tell him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to tell you the truth

“Well, I am delighted that you two haven’t killed each other yet,” James says. He’s not quite slurring his words yet, but he’s on a good way there. Remus knows that James meant to say _I’m glad that Moony hasn’t killed Pads yet_. Because Sirius is a royal pain in the ass and also not capable of murdering a friend. Neither is Remus, he thinks, but a nice kick in the ass wouldn’t come amiss occasionally.

Remus feels himself agreeing with the general sentiment, though. He moved in with Sirius a little over a month ago, they’re both still alive, it’s a good reason to celebrate. They’re getting along. Most of the time. Remus has only seen Sirius naked once so far, which is fortunate because he’s sure that he couldn’t deal with seeing him naked on a regular basis. Anyway, he wasn’t _completely_ naked. There was a towel, but it didn’t do a very good job of covering certain bits.

Anyway, Remus shouldn’t be so hung up on that incident, he has much bigger problems, but those are not of the kind that you discuss with your best friends on a night out in the Leaky Cauldron. So he and Sirius bicker about the other leaving their things lying around all over the flat, and James and Peter laugh and it’s a fun night out.

Remus doesn’t mention that he’s been fired again. He doesn’t mention that he constantly feels uneasy, that he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if it keeps happening – and it _will_ keep happening. Remus was utter crap at Divination, but that much he can certainly tell. And he doesn’t even need a crystal ball for it.

“Moony, come on, have another drink,” James says and waves at Tom.

Remus is about to tell James that he doesn’t have the money for another drink, although not quite so explicitly, but then James has already got up to pay. Remus doesn’t have much time to feel guilty, because Peter asks him how annoying Sirius really is as a flatmate.

“I resent that,” Sirius says loudly and leans close to Remus, “Moony loves living with me, am I not the best flatmate you’ve ever had in your entire life?”

“You’re the only flatmate he’s ever had,” James says as he sits down and hands out Firewhiskey.

“So the answer is yes,” Sirius says. It seems that he doesn’t have full control of his tongue anymore. “Moony, just say it, you love me. Honestly, who wouldn’t want to live with me.”

James only pats Sirius on the back and Remus is already having nightmares about how he’s going to get Sirius home tonight. Because that particular task will definitely be his. Sirius is always a bit of a pain in the ass when he’s drunk, but sometimes Remus misses the time when they were still at Hogwarts and it was a lot easier to drag Sirius to bed.

“By the way, have you guys heard that Dumbledore is recruit–”

“Shhh,” James and Remus say at the same time, Sirius joins in belatedly.

“Sorry,” Peter mutters.

“But yes, we’ve heard,” Remus says. He’s been in contact with Dumbledore over the past few weeks, because he might have a job for him – research, mostly, at least for the time being. He’d pay him, too. Remus doesn’t like that he has to depend on Dumbledore’s charity again, but he’s running out of options and it’s not the first time he’s offered. Remus has tried to do things his way, maybe now it’s time to consider Dumbledore’s offer.

“Moony,” James says loudly, “you okay there?”

Remus jerks his head. “What?”

“You were staring at the table.”

“Like you were trying to set it on fire with your eyes.”

Sirius perks up at that. “I can do that.”

“I’m sorry to tell you like this,” Remus says, “but you can’t. James just set the table on fire while you were trying to do it with your eyes.”

Sirius gasps. “You didn’t.” He hides his face in his hands. “You’re s’pposed t’be my friends.”

“It was perfect, especially because you never tried it again,” Remus says.

Sirius only groans and only slumps over the table. James ruffles his hair. “Sorry, mate.” The smug grin on his face tells an entirely different story.

“Is he asleep?” Peter asks when Sirius hasn’t moved for a while.

“He’s probably just sulking,” James says and gives Sirius a poke. “Oi, Pads, Tom is naked and he’s dancing on a table.” Sirius doesn’t react. “No, definitely asleep.”

“I wouldn’t open my eyes for that either,” Peter mumbles.

James grins. “Yeah, probably should have said Moony.”

“Nobody wants to see that either,” Remus says.

Peter tilts his head, his frown directed at Sirius. “Should we take him home?”

“You mean should _Moony_ take him home.” James pokes at Sirius again. “Yeah, I guess apparating is out of the question.” He makes the face he always makes when he’s pretending that he’s thinking really hard. “And you don’t have a fireplace. I guess the Knight Bus is your best bet, huh?” He fishes a couple of coins out of his pocket.

“We can walk,” Remus says. He’s certainly not taking any more of James’ money. “It’s not that far. And I don’t want to get banned from the Knight Bus because Sirius threw up in there.”

“’m not throwin’ up,” Sirius mumbles into his sleeve.

“We’re walking,” Remus says sternly.

“Well, just in case,” James says. “It’s basically my fault that he can’t stand upright, so let me at least make sure he’s getting home all right.”

Remus has a feeling, a very strong feeling, that this might be just James seeing another opportunity to slip him some money. In fact, he’s been doing that for a while now. Remus would find a handful of galleons in his jacket, not sure how they got there, or in a mug in the kitchen, and Sirius wouldn’t know where they came from either. Remus frowns at James, but he won’t drop his arm and is still trying to hand him the money.

“Merlin, Remus, just take it.”

Remus does, because James, being James, won’t let this go and it’s late and Sirius is about two minutes away from just sliding under the table and sleeping right there. Remus knows because they’ve been there.

He pulls Sirius to his feet and James and Peter ask if he needs help, but Remus is stronger than he looks, and this isn’t the first time he’s dragged Sirius home from the Leaky Cauldron. So James and Peter take the Floo and Remus takes Sirius outside.

Sirius isn’t quite as cooperative as Remus would like him to be, he’s clinging to him, but he’s stumbling along. Remus won’t start complaining until he has to carry him. Which hopefully won’t happen.  Sirius is surprisingly well-behaved, but they’re not even halfway there yet and Remus won’t call this a success until Sirius is tucked into bed.

“Moony,” Sirius says, “’m hungry.”

“I’m sure we still have some leftovers at home,” Remus says.

Sirius hums. “Hm, that stir-fry you made... it was pretty good stir-fry, I have t’say. ‘m glad you moved in with me, Moony. You are the bestest flatmate. Really, you have a lot goin’ for you flatmate-wise.”

“Well, I’m glad you don’t regret letting me move in yet,” Remus mumbles. He tightens his arm around Sirius, because Sirius is rather wobbly on his feet all of a sudden. Maybe taking the Knight Bus would have been a better idea after all.

“You always clean up your mugs, ‘s nice,” Sirius goes on, “but you leave your books lying ‘round everywhere, but I like that, I like it when your books’re everywhere.”

Remus doesn’t reply. Quite frankly, he’s not so sure what to say to that. Drunk Sirius is rather unpredictable, either he makes a plan to blow something up or he gets ridiculously philosophical. In any case, he talks a lot. Remus has figured out that it’s for the best to just let him talk, because most of the time he doesn’t realize whether or not someone replies anyway.

“Your face is nice to have around, too.”

“My face,” Remus echoes.

“It’s a nice face, Moony, you have a nice face.”

“If you say so,” Remus says, his lips twitching. Disagreeing would only make things worse. And perhaps he also likes it when Sirius talks about how much he likes his face – even though Sirius is drunk and has no idea what he’s saying anyway.

“Yes, I say so, I know you don’t think so, but...” Sirius reaches up to very clumsily trace the scar that runs down Remus’ cheek. It’s an old one, thin and silvery in the right light. Remus shivers when Sirius’ fingers brush over it.

It’s not fair, really. Having to see Sirius and his skimpy towel parading about their kitchen early in the morning, it’s not fair. Sirius touching him like this, it’s not fair either. It’s nothing that he hasn’t done before, Remus should be used to it. He just wants to get over this already. But Sirius and his skimpy towel, and Sirius and his long pale fingers, and Sirius and his, well, _everything_ just won’t let him go.

Sirius leans into him even more than before and Remus is seriously considering pulling out his wand and getting them on the bus. But it’s not much further now and Sirius is humming a song and not touching Remus’ face anymore, so they have a chance of making it.

They nearly fall over when Sirius stumbles up the two steps in front of their door and then again when Sirius starts to sway dangerously while Remus pulls out his wand to unlock the door. Eventually they make it inside and Remus kicks the door shut and leans against the wall to catch his breath, Sirius still clinging to him, with his face buried in Remus’ coat.

“Mmm, ‘m bloody knackered.”

“Are you, now?” Remus asks. At this point he’s slightly worried that Sirius might fall asleep standing up.

He needn’t have worried, because then Sirius looks up, grey eyes wide. He suddenly doesn’t look all that tired anymore. “I meant what I said, y’know? I did.” His hand his back on Remus’ face, thumb slowly stroking over his cheek.

And Remus just stands there, back against the wall, wondering what on earth is happening, because of all the things Sirius has done, he’s never ever _done_ that before. There was a fair amount of hair-stroking after full moons and quite inappropriate groping, all in good fun, and causal little touches, just fingertips brushing, that made Remus’ stomach flutter, but this, this is different. He doesn’t even know _why_ it’s different, it simply feels like something else entirely.

“What?” Remus eventually chokes out.

Sirius doesn’t reply, just looks up at him for a long moment, and then his lips are on Remus’ and he kisses him, not with the sort of heat that unfurls in Remus’ stomach, it’s just a kiss, soft and lingering, and then Sirius pulls away. His fingers are still curled around the lapels of Remus’ coat, but Sirius isn’t looking at him, and he isn’t saying anything either.

“Sirius...”

Clearing his throat, Sirius takes a step back, stumbles over a stray shoe and Remus only barely manages to catch him.

“You okay?”

“Fine, I’m fine,” Sirius says and shrugs off Remus’ hand. “I’m... bed. Night, Moony.”

Remus doesn’t move while Sirius noisily makes his way up the stairs, he remains standing by the door, still trying to process what just happened. Sirius kissed him, that is what happened. Remus just hasn’t quite figured out the _why_.

He stays right there until he’s sure that Sirius has made it to bed, then he toes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, and sneaks up the stairs as well. Sirius has left the door to his room open. He’s lying facedown on the bed, boots still on, his leather jacket on the floor. Remus stands in the door for a moment and listens to Sirius snore, then he ventures inside, picks up the jacket and drapes it over the armchair in the corner, and carefully pries Sirius’ boots off his feet before he tucks a blanket around him.

Then Remus retreats quickly, because he feels like quiet panicking is in order now. He has no idea why Sirius kissed him, he’s not sure if he wants to find out either. It might have been a passing fancy, maybe he just wanted to kiss someone and Remus just so conveniently happened to be there, then there are also the copious amounts of Firewhiskey to consider. Remus doesn’t even know if Sirius has ever kissed a boy before, he’s only ever seen him with girls. But that doesn’t mean anything. Remus has never kissed a boy before either, but that doesn’t mean that he never wanted to. And here he is, no ten minutes after his first kiss with a bloke, and it’s already a bit of a disaster. _A bit_.

Remus tumbles into bed, clothes still on, much like Sirius, only that he’s barely even tipsy, he just can’t even muster the strength to pull off his socks right now. And it’s really all Sirius’ fault. Sirius couldn’t have found a worse moment for this. It isn’t _today_ , specifically, that is so very inconvenient, it’s just _now_. Now that there’s a war, now that Remus might leave to work for Dumbledore, now that Remus has long since given up on this ever being a possibility.

Why didn’t he do this while they were still at Hogwarts? Well, Remus would have had a bit of a freak-out regardless of when it happened. Because it is Sirius and Remus did make an attempt at seeing himself above all those unhappy people who were fawning over him, and blushing when he smiled at them, and not sleeping at night because they couldn’t stop thinking about him, but Remus has given up all pretences a while ago. Well, he made an effort to hide his feelings, but he still catches himself staring at Sirius in the most inopportune moments, and recently he’s started to think that Sirius might know and is just choosing to ignore this entire situation. Which might have been for the best.

But kissing Remus, that’s really not ignoring this situation, and Remus wants to go over to Sirius’ room and shake him awake and ask him _why_. Obviously he can’t do that – Sirius is completely and utterly dead to the world – so he spends next two hours or so thinking about what he’s going to say to Sirius tomorrow morning until he finally falls asleep.

* * *

Morning comes and Remus is woken up by the Daily Prophet owl pecking at the windowpane. Remus takes the paper and pays the owl that chirps happily when Remus pats its feathery head.

The flat is quiet. It shouldn’t surprise Remus; it’s early and it’s Sunday morning and after a night out Sirius doesn’t usually crawl out of bed before noon. Remus, not too keen on spending even more time in bed pondering, doesn’t go back to bed and pads to the bathroom, not without casting a glance into Sirius’ bedroom.

He’s still right where Remus left him last night, blanket tucked around him, face buried in a pillow, a tuft of dark hair sticking up. Remus darts off when Sirius rolls onto his back with a low murmur.

When Remus emerges from the bathroom and goes to make breakfast, Sirius is snoring softly. Remus pulls his door shut, so he won’t wake him up, then he makes himself some eggs and ham – it’s pretty much all that’s left in their fridge anyway – and a cup of tea. Sirius will probably want coffee later.

 _Sirius_. Remus still doesn’t know what to say to him. He can’t just hand him some eggs and ask, “So, why exactly did you kiss me last night?” That’s not how it works. Or at least Remus is pretty sure that it can’t be that easy. He doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships and anyway, a relationship is surely not what Sirius has in mind. If he has _anything_ in mind.

Remus glances at the stairs, wishing Sirius would just get up already. He thinks about doing the dishes, but it’s Sirius’ turn and Remus doesn’t actually want to wake him up, he just wants this morning to stop dragging on like it does. He does the crossword instead, then he reads about the disappearances, about the unexplained break-ins, the fires, the deaths. He wonders if his name will show up in there, or James’ or Peter’s, or maybe Sirius’. If they are going to disappear if they join the Order, if their deaths will be a headline in the paper a year from now, two years from now. The paper crumples between his fingers and Remus puts it down and pushes it away.

He picks up one of the books that are piled up on the windowsill and begins to read, trying to stop himself from listening for the sound of bare feet tapping over the wooden floor, or for the creak of the stairs, or the shower turning on upstairs.

As Remus has already suspected, Sirius really doesn’t emerge until it’s almost noon and Remus is halfway through his fourth cup of tea and has moved on to yet another book. Sirius grumbles something under his breath as he comes downstairs and wobbles past Remus.

Following Sirius with his eyes, Remus frowns. “What did you say?”

“I was just wondering how much you let me drink last night, I feel like the Knight Bus rolled over my head or something.” Sirius looks down at the empty pan on the stove, apparently concentrating hard. Then he turns to Remus. “Did the Knight Bus roll over my head?”

Remus stares at him for a moment, stares at his dishevelled hair – not quite as artful as James’ – and his bloodshot eyes, and clears his throat. “You don’t remember?” He doesn’t mean to sound quite so relieved, he doesn’t even feel relieved, it’s just a decision his brain makes for some reason.

Sirius tilts his head, regards him for a long moment, and shakes his head. He seems to immediately regret that last part and rubs his forehead. “I remember going to the Leaky Cauldron, that’s practically it.” He quickly looks away from Remus and goes to stare into the fridge, unmoving.

“I see,” Remus says and gets up to shove Sirius away from the fridge and onto a chair, because there’s no way that Sirius is capable of making himself breakfast right now. “Coffee?”

Sirius hums and watches Remus make some more eggs and ham, eyes still bleary. Remus wants to kiss him again just to see if it really feels like he remembers it.

“What did I do?” Sirius asks.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me like... Did I ask Prongs to marry me again?”

Remus nods. He might as well play along. “He said yes this time.”

“Bless him, I knew he was a reasonable guy.” Sirius grins his easy grin. “No, but... I didn’t do anything... embarrassing?”

“You always do something that’s embarrassing,” Remus mutters and pokes the pan with his wand one more time. He’s rubbish at cooking, with and without magic. 

“Nothing memorable?”

Remus could tell him now, he’ll never get a better chance to do it. But what’s going to happen when he does? There’s a good chance that Sirius was just drunk, that he wasn’t thinking, that it was really just a spur of the moment thing that he’d regret if he remembered. So Remus only shrugs.

“Well, lucky me,” Sirius mumbles and then keeps his face hidden behind his hands until Remus sets down breakfast in front of his nose.

“It’s your turn to do the dishes,” Remus says and then goes back to reading, watching over the edge of his book as Sirius first glares at his breakfast and then starts to devour it.

Sirius does get up to do the dishes with only very little complaining and manages not to destroy the last of their plates with a flick of his wand. He keeps insisting that he just wasn’t really practised in household magic when it happened the first time. They did try to fix the plates that Sirius broke, but now they’re highly uncooperative and start screeching whenever they put hot food on them.

Remus reads for a little while longer, then he slowly but surely starts to feel like he’s going to implode with Sirius slinking about the flat and then grumbling lowly in the living room. When the grumbling turns into groaning and then into loud complaining because Sirius, unsurprisingly, feels like utter crap, Remus decides to go for a walk.

When he tells Sirius that he’s going out, he only grumbles at him from the sofa, face hidden under a pillow. Remus almost wants to get him a blanket, but then forces himself to leave, because Sirius doesn’t remember that he kissed him last night and Remus wants to be angry at him, except that it’s not his fault, except that it is. Remus shakes his head at himself and leaves.

He’s not sure where he’s going, he’s just wandering about, peering into Muggle shops. He ends up buying a newspaper with a bunch of the Muggle coins he finds in the pocket of his coat and sits down on a bench in the park, doing his best to ignore the cold, and reads. The Muggles know about the disappearances, too. And the deaths, so many deaths. There’s no mention of Voldemort in there, of course, the Muggles are just speculating, unable to find explanations.

Remus stays out until the light is starting to fade. When he gets back to the flat, Sirius isn’t there. There’s a note on the kitchen table – he’s out, not sure when he’ll be back. Remus purses his lips and makes beans on toast that he probably shouldn’t be eating. He’s not waiting for the front door to open, isn’t waiting for Sirius’ wand to tap against the door handle. Maybe Sirius is out with James, maybe he’s gone to one of those Muggle pubs he loves so much.

In any case, Remus will quite possibly be fast asleep by the time Sirius returns. He doesn’t wait up, but he writes to Dumbledore before he goes to bed. Remus has dragged it out long enough; it’s a letter that’s long overdue. He borrows Sirius’ owl – Remus is sure he won’t mind – and then he tucks himself in and, well, he doesn’t really sleep. Because the flat is old and full of noises and for some reason Remus jerks awake at every creak, because it could be Sirius sneaking up the stairs.

Not that it matters _when_ Sirius gets home, really, Sirius can do whatever he wants. Remus turns over with a sigh. Midnight must have come and gone a while ago and Remus wishes he could just fall asleep already, but he’s too busy ignoring one very persistent thought. What if he told Sirius about the kiss this morning? Remus groans into his pillow. It doesn’t matter.

Sirius would have probably laughed it off. He’s kissed him before, it’s not a big deal. _But not like that_ , his brain oh-so-helpfully supplies. The other kisses, Remus still remembers all of them. Sirius kissing him after a rather spectacularly executed prank at the end of their sixth year, both of them sleep-deprived and too tired to register what just happened. Sirius whispering, “Made it,” and his lips brushing against Remus’ forehead after that incredibly long full moon over Christmas in their seventh year. And then the peck on the cheek that only barely missed his mouth on their last day at Hogwarts. Now he can add last night to that list.

Remus doesn’t like that there’s a list. He doesn’t like that his mind very often dwells on it. Sirius just likes to touch people, and hug people, and when he’s Padfoot he slobbers all over everyone in his general vicinity. That’s just what he’s like and Remus should know better than to think that those kisses might have meant something.

There is another creak, then complete silence. Rain starts pattering against his window a while later and Remus is drifting in and out of sleep. There are Daily Prophet headlines ghosting around in his mind, and then Sirius, and then the war, and that he will be right in the middle of it all once Dumbledore accepts him into the Order, and then Sirius again.

When Remus crawls out of bed in the morning, there’s no sign of Sirius anywhere and they’re all out of food, so Remus picks some Muggle money out of the jar by the fridge and walks down the street to the shop at the corner.

Sirius is sitting on the front steps smoking a cigarette when Remus returns. Which is strange, because Sirius usually smokes out the window, he doesn’t actually go outside like Remus regularly asks him to.

“I was wondering where you were off to,” Sirius says and stubs out the cigarette.

“Likewise,” Remus mutters and squeezes past him to get inside.

Sirius follows him inside and shoots him an odd look as he walks past him, kicking off his boots on the way. “Yeah, I was... out.”

“I know,” Remus says testily. “You left a note, remember?”

“I did, yeah, so why–”

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be back,” Remus says and tells himself that he’s just worried, because there’s really nothing wrong with being worried these days.

“I just went to this pub James and I found a couple of weeks ago, you know,” Sirius says with a shrug. He leans against the counter and doesn’t offer to help with the groceries. Not that he has to. Remus flicks his wand and the food sorts itself out. “Met a Muggle girl. She was nice.” He shrugs, in the _you know how it is_ sort of way.

“I see,” Remus mumbles, distracted for a second when Sirius’ owl lands on the windowsill.

Sirius looks at her, clearly confused.

“I borrowed her yesterday,” Remus explains. “I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius says and lets her in, taking the letter she’s carrying. “From Hogwarts?”

“I wrote to Dumbledore.” Remus doesn’t look at Sirius, because he’s not sure how he’s going to react. “About Order business.”

“So you’re joining,” Sirius says.

Remus nods at the sink.

“Guess it was just a matter of time till we did.”

Remus doesn’t ask about the _we_ , because Sirius is right, it was just a matter of time. Dumbledore was reluctant about letting them join right after school, but the situation is dire, and the Order needs all the help it can get.

“And what does he want you to do?”

“I don’t...” Remus carefully opens the letter, skims it, puts it down. “He’s going to meet me tomorrow evening?”

“At Hogwarts?”

Remus nods. It feels strange to go back, even though it’s only been a few months since he’s left. It feels like a lifetime ago. “It’s research, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Entirely,” Remus corrects. Although that’s probably only true for now. He doesn’t quite know and it’s terrifying. He looks up and finds Sirius looking right back at him, brow creased, fingers gripping the counter tightly. It’s an odd look on him.

The worry is gone a moment later and all of a sudden Remus isn’t sure if he just imagined it. Sirius smirks. “Well, he found the right guy then, we all know how much you love sniffing old books.” He nudges Remus’ arm. “’m going to bed.”

Remus sighs and watches him go. _Why did you have to fucking kiss me?_ he wants to ask, the words right there at the tip of his tongue. And then Sirius disappears up the stairs and Remus is none the wiser.

He shakes his head at himself and pours some cereal into a bowl.

* * *

Remus apparates to Hogsmeade the next day, leaving a grumpy Sirius lounging on the sofa. He’s not sure what got him in such a bad mood. Remus blames it on the weather or the fact that Sirius still hasn’t found himself a job.

He doesn’t need one, at least for now. His uncle has left him enough money so he can get by, but it’s not going to last forever. Sirius worked in a Muggle shop for a bit after they’d left Hogwarts, he thought it was funny, but these days he doesn’t seem to be in the mood to think about the future.

Remus has tried to talk him into meeting up with Arthur Weasly, because he’d probably give him the right idea about what he might want to do. But then Sirius isn’t too keen on working for the Ministry. Anyway, Remus doesn’t have to figure it out for him, but a sulking Sirius isn’t that much fun to be around. And now it’s even worse because every time Remus looks at him, he thinks about Saturday night. And all he wants to do, really, is to stop thinking about Saturday night.

The meeting with Dumbledore gets his mind off it for at least a little while. It doesn’t take too long – Dumbledore asks him how he’s been, tells him what he wants him to look for. Old potions and spells that have mostly been forgotten, that are virtually unused these days, but that might be helpful in battle. Unknown curses are harder to fight against, Remus is very well aware of that. The Wizarding branch at the British Library is expecting him the day after tomorrow.

Dumbledore invites him to stick around for dinner and it’s tempting, very tempting, but Remus politely declines and wanders back towards Hogsmeade to go home. Except that he doesn’t really want to go home, because he has a feeling that Sirius isn’t done sulking yet.

He thinks about paying the Three Broomsticks a visit, he hasn’t been there in a while, and he’s going to get paid for the work he does for Dumbledore, but as of right now he’s still pretty broke, so having dinner there is out of the question.

He glances over at the Forbidden Forest as he walks towards Hogsmeade, a smile tugging at his lips. The memories of roaming that very forest are hazy at best, they’re not exactly happy ones, but it doesn’t really remind him of being a werewolf, it reminds him of his friends and all the trouble they went through so they could be with him. He passes the gates and, after a moment’s hesitation, he apparates right onto James’ doorstep.

It was either that or Peter’s place and Remus isn’t sure if Peter’s mum would be too happy about him showing up out of the blue. James, on the other hand, probably won’t mind at all.

He rings the doorbell that makes an attempt at biting off his finger and Remus is still cursing when Lily opens the door.  “Remus,” she says and pulls him inside by the lapel of his coat, “James didn’t say that you were coming over.”

“That’s because James didn’t know,” Remus says. “I’m sorry, it was a bit of a spontaneous decision.”

“That’s all right,” Lily says. Remus isn’t quite sure if she actually lives with James now or if she’s just here all the time. He doesn’t want to ask her either, just in case James didn’t have the guts to ask her yet. “James is getting takeout, but he should be back in a few minutes. I’m sure there’ll be enough for the three of us.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I just didn’t want to...” Remus shrugs, because saying _I just didn’t want to go home yet_ probably isn’t the best idea. “How are you?” he asks instead.

“I’m good.” Lily ushers him into the kitchen. “Did you meet with Dumbledore today? James told me, I hope you don’t mind.”

Which means that Sirius must have told James. Remus nods and accepts a cup of tea from Lily with a small smile. “Thank you.”

Lily sits down across from him. “Well, you’re certainly not the only one who’s joining these days,” she says. So they did, too. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise and James did say that he wanted to tell them something the last time they saw each other. “Remus,” Lily says, “is everything okay?”

In the great scheme of things, nothing at all is okay. But Remus, he’s okay, the last full moon wasn’t too strenuous, he has a job, he’s actually getting paid. Well, there’s the Sirius issue, obviously, but Remus did a rather good job at ignoring it during the last couple of hours. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Lily tilts her head, her expression thoughtful. Remus is scared that she’s seeing right through him. “And how is Sirius?”

“He’s fine, too,” Remus says as casually as he can manage.

And Lily doesn’t believe him, he can see in the way her eyebrows are knit together. “Did something happen? Your eyebrows are still there, so I assume he didn’t blow anything up in your flat.”

“He didn’t.”

“What did he do, then?”

“Nothing, he’s just... being Sirius.” Which should be explanation enough. Sirius didn’t do anything wrong, Remus is the one who didn’t tell him what happened even when Sirius had asked. “Actually, it’s... I lied to him.”

Lily’s frown only deepens.

“I didn’t lie, _exactly_ ,” Remus quickly says. “I just kept something from him.”

“Well,” Lily says, “it’s...” She trails off when the door opens and James comes strutting into the kitchen, glasses fogged up, carrying two bags. “Looks like he did get more than enough food,” Lily mutters.

“I couldn’t decide what to get,” James says. He gives Remus a pat on the back. “Moony, didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I just wanted to say hello,” Remus mumbles. “See how you were doing.”

James doesn’t buy it for a second, but Lily gives him a look and he shrugs and goes to get three plates. And Remus really shouldn’t stay for dinner, that’s not what he came here for. It was just a means of stalling the inevitable. When he moves to get up, James pushes him back into his chair.

“You have got to stay for dinner,” James says and starts unpacking takeout boxes. “Lily and I found this amazing place two weeks ago.” Well, that was what James did these days. Finding amazing places. “It belongs to those two Muggles, who didn’t leave when wizards started taking over the neighbourhood. Not sure if they know what’s really going on. Anyway, you have to try this.”

Lily smiles at him. “We insist.”

So Remus has dinner with Lily and James, and they don’t talk about the disappearances, or the war, or the headlines that will only keep getting worse. James talks about his colleagues at the Auror’s Office, and then he asks about Sirius and if they got home all right the other day. Remus answers as politely as he can, trying not to let on that Sirius isn’t his favourite conversation topic at the moment. He doesn’t miss that Lily gives him a curious look. He’s eternally grateful when she doesn’t comment.

Well, not until he leaves a while later. He’s already said goodbye and is out the door, gathering his thoughts to apparate without any major injuries, when the door opens and Lily slips outside. “I forgot to give you this,” she says and hands him a book. It’s one that she borrowed from him a few weeks ago.

“Oh, thank you.”

“And, Remus,” Lily says, “whatever it is that you kept from him, you can still tell him, you know?”

“I know.” Remus looks down at his worn-out shoes. “But he’ll know that I lied to him and maybe it’s for the best if he doesn’t know.”

“Why?”

“What if he...” Remus shakes his head. He almost wants to tell her what happened. Lily might be able to help, actually he’s sure that she would at least have some encouraging words for him.

“He won’t be angry,” Lily says. “At least not for long.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Lily pats his arm. “Just tell him. It’s obviously bothering you.”

Remus knows that she’s right, but that doesn’t make things easier for him. He gives her a hug anyway, because he does appreciate the advice, and then apparates into the kitchen of Sirius’ flat. Well, it’s their flat, although Sirius is the one who owns the place – thanks to his uncle Alphard. It’s more of a tiny house than a flat, actually, Sirius just calls it a flat. Maybe _house_ sounds too grown-up for his taste.

He’s home for roughly two seconds when there’s a loud clatter and then Sirius appears in the doorway, looking rumpled, Remus’ favourite blanket tangled around his feet. He must have fallen asleep on the couch.

“Where have you been?” Sirius asks and he sounds remarkably like James’ mum after she caught them sneaking into the house just before sunrise two summers ago. Sirius makes a face like he just remembered the exact same thing.

Remus realises that Sirius is thinking about the headlines, too, and for a moment he feels guilty for not mentioning that he might not come home right after his meeting with Dumbledore. He puts the book Lily gave back to him on the table. “I went to see James and Lily.”

“Could have said something,” Sirius mutters and then picks up the blanket and trots off.

 _Just tell him_. It’s easier said than done.

* * *

Sirius, Remus notices after a few days, is doing his very best to avoid him. At first he’s not entirely sure what’s going on. Remus gets up early to go to work at the British Library, so he thinks Sirius is probably still asleep. When he gets back in the evening, Sirius is usually around, mumbles a quick hello, but then disappears into his room.

Remus tries to write it off as one of Sirius’ sulky moods, but it somehow feels bigger than that. He catches Sirius in the kitchen the following Saturday, rummaging through the fridge. He looks like he’s ready to go out, wearing his boots and his leather jacket. Remus leans in the doorway to make sure Sirius can’t run away.

“Is everything all right?” Remus asks.

Sirius makes a surprised noise and straightens up, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. “What?”

“You’re acting weird,” Remus simply says. “Is something the matter?”

“No, why?”

“Just wondering,” Remus says. “Are you headed out?”

Sirius nods and then squeezes past him, not looking him in the eyes. “Don’t wait up.”

“Take your wand, yeah?”

“’Course,” Sirius says.

Remus watches him walk over to the door. He doesn’t mind that Sirius doesn’t ask if he wants to come, he’s tired anyway. Still, he wants to ask where he’s going. Some Muggle pub, probably, but Remus would sleep better if he knew exactly. He tilts his head. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

Sirius huffs and opens the door. “Would you?” he asks and then he’s gone and Remus is left standing in the hallway.

It takes him a moment to catch up on what just happened. It wasn’t a fight, not exactly, but Sirius’ words hit a little too close to home. _Would you?_ It slowly dawns on him that _Sirius knows_. Or at least he knows that Remus is keeping something from him. Remus can only hope that Sirius hasn’t remembered what exactly.

Remus takes a deep breath. He wants to go after Sirius, but chances are that he’s already turned the corner somewhere and Remus has no hope of finding him. He paces, drinks tea, stares into the darkness of Sirius’ room for a moment before he goes to his own and crawls into bed, staring at the flashes of light that appear every time a car passes by his window.

The amount of sleepless nights that Sirius has caused him is quite ridiculous.

He hears when Sirius comes home and quietly makes his way up the stairs. Probably not drunk, then. Remus could go talk to him, he _should_ , he knows that it’s the right thing to do. Slipping out of bed, Remus pulls on the cardigan that he’s flung over the chair by the door and silently crosses the hall to knock on Sirius’ door. It’s open and inch and swings open even wider when he knocks. Sirius isn’t in bed, but the window above Sirius’ desk, the one that goes out on the roof, is open.

Remus carefully climbs up on the desk and finds Sirius sitting on the roof. “What are you doing out there?”

Sirius takes a drag from his cigarette. “You don’t like it when I smoke inside, remember? He doesn’t ask what Remus is doing in his room in the middle of the night.

“Pads...” When Sirius doesn’t look at him, Remus climbs out onto the roof as well. “I’m sorry,” he tries. It almost sounds like a question.

Sirius stares straight ahead. Remus has no idea what time it is, but there are lights still twinkling all over the city. Sirius keeps smoking his cigarette and then stubs it out on the roof and gets out another one, but he doesn’t light it.

“It’s fine,” Sirius says eventually.

It’s striking how beautiful he is and Remus wants nothing more than to kiss him again. “It’s fine?” he asks.

“I get it, you were hoping I forgot about,” Sirius shrugs, “ _it_.”

A gust of wind sweeps over the roof and Remus shivers. “I wasn’t _hoping_. You said you didn’t remember, and I didn’t know what to tell you.”

“So you decided not to tell me anything,” Sirius says. He sounds like he does when he’s talking about his family, pretending that he doesn’t care, but deep down he does, even if it’s just a little bit. He’s not quite as indifferent as he wants to be.

Remus pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. He’s going to freeze out here.

Sirius glares at his unlit cigarette. “You’re cold, go back inside.”

“I want to talk about this.”

“Of course you want to talk about this,” Sirius says. “Well, I’m sorry I kissed you. Now go back to bed.”

“I didn’t want an apology.”

“Then what did you want?”

“What do _you_ want?” Remus asks. Because Sirius is the one who’s been avoiding him for days and Remus wants to know why.

Sirius doesn’t reply, just slowly spins the cigarette between his fingers.

Remus plucks it from his hands. “Sirius,” he says.

“So, you don’t want me to apologise. You just want me to forget about the whole thing?”

“I just thought I’d give you an easy way out.”

“What if I didn’t want an easy way out?”

“You were drunk,” Remus says. “I just assumed–”

“That I didn’t mean it?”

Well, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched. Sirius is all flirting and easy smiles, he isn’t serious about these things.

“Moony, I thought you were smart,” Sirius says and there it is, that easy grin. “Well, I’m not drunk now, do you want me to do it again?”

Does Remus want Sirius to kiss him up on a rooftop in the freezing cold while he’s wearing frayed pyjamas and is utterly sleep-deprived? He wants to go inside, mainly, but if Sirius is offering.

Sirius doesn’t wait for him to reply. He reaches out, hands cupping Remus’ face, his thumb running along the scar on his cheek. Remus shivers and leans into Sirius’ warmth and then Sirius is kissing him, teeth grazing Remus’ bottom lip.  

Remus drops the cigarette in favour of pulling Sirius closer. He’s sure that Sirius won’t miss it too much.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments (and kudos, obviously) are very much appreciated!


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